Peril in Paperback: A Bibliophile Mystery

There were also plenty of outlandish props Grace had come across during her years as the queen of games.
    I could hear musical instruments being played in the music room, mostly badly, but it was obvious that Grace didn’t care about quality tonight. I knew that Vinnie had gone to her room to practice the dance she intended to perform. Had Suzie gone with her?
    I hadn’t seen Gabriel in a few hours, either, so I figured our inspection of the conservatory had been postponed. The snow was falling more thickly now, so I doubted he’d gone outside. Maybe he was in hiding, rehearsingthe hula for the big talent show. But probably not. Gabriel wasn’t big on public displays of, well, anything.
    I missed my friends, but I had plenty to do on my own. I took off for the library to spend an hour or two fixing books. I was hoping Nathan would be there to keep me company, but the room was empty. Was he rehearsing for the talent show, too?
    I sat at my desk and stared out the window at the gray sky. Snow continued to fall, and even though I was perfectly comfortable inside the house I shivered as I watched it coming down.
    A sudden warm presence wrapped itself around my ankles. “Hello, Leroy.”
    He purred loudly as he searched for the perfect position, finally curling up on top of my shoes. I was pitifully grateful for his company as well as for the radiant heat he was providing to my feet.
    I’d come across four more loose-hinged books to repair, so I unwrapped my travel tool kit and popped open my little bottle of PVC glue. A bamboo skewer coated in PVC was my secret weapon when it came to loose hinges. I slid the thin stick in the gap between the boards and the endpapers, then twirled it until the glue was nicely distributed on both sides, while avoiding the spine.
    It was a neat trick, one I enjoyed teaching librarians who were always dealing with books being damaged as they were checked in and out of the library.
    Grace didn’t have a book press, so I looked around for something else to use. I pushed my chair away from my desk and disturbed Leroy, who let out an aggrieved growl.
    “Sorry, kitty,” I said. “I know I’m a deep disappointment to you.” I bent down to pet him and scratch behind his ears, silently begging his forgiveness. He must have granted me absolution because he purred and rubbed his head against my hand.
    I stood and watched him slink off to find another comfy spot for his nap. Then I searched the room and found the perfect substitute for a book press. Each of the end tables next to the corner chairs had a heavy glass top. I could slip the books between the glass and the wood surface of the tables.
    I arranged the two thickest books together on one table and set the weighty glass down on top of them. Then I did the same for the thinner books on the other table. Ten minutes later, they were all dried and fully repaired, so I returned them to their places on the bookshelves.
    One job was done, so I faced another. The damaged
Pilgrim’s Progress
sat on the corner of the center table. I’d been meaning to ask Grace if she would consider allowing the book to be showed at the Covington Library, but as with everything else I’d wanted to do today, there had been too many distractions.
    I made a quick list of the other books I wanted to ask Grace about showing to Ian at the Covington. Then, grabbing the
Pilgrim’s Progress
, I headed upstairs to find Grace. I would try her room first, and if she wasn’t there I would hunt down Merrilee to ask where I could find her.
    But she was in her room and answered her bedroom door after one knock. She looked tired and pale.
    “Brooklyn,” she said, swinging the door wide. “Come on in.”
    “I don’t mean to bother you if you’re trying to rest.”
    “Rest? After the past twenty-four hours we’ve had?” Her laugh was devoid of real humor, but she managed a smile for me. “Not likely. Come on in.”
    Before I could enter, Stephen Fowler appeared from behind the door and blocked my way. The lawyer looked so aggravated, I took a step back.
    “Stephen was just leaving. You
are
finished annoying me, aren’t you, Stephen?” Grace gave him a pointed look.
    “Don’t be stupid,” he grumbled, then glowered at me. “This house is full of pain-in-the-ass women.”
    “What is wrong with you?” I blurted.
    “Shut up,” he muttered, and stormed off down the hall.
    I stared at his back, wondering what I had done to bug him this time. But I quickly